Parenting Is Tough
by rebornrose
Summary: Short drabble of Zuko's life as a single father in a modern AU. Cutesy for the most part with a bit of family drama sprinkled in. Unknown mother but heavily hinted Zutara. One-shot.


_my family's standing over there panicking, what's up?_

_i'm feeling good, livin' the life that i think i should_

_~ben beal_

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A pair of shimmering golden eyes looked down at the tiny child flailing about happily in the crib, it's small hands reaching out to try and grasp the decorative blue fishes that were slowly rotating above in the air from the baby mobile, the youngling's happy squeals echoing around the empty room lifting the slight gloomy atmosphere. Zuko's lips twitched into a pleasant smirk at the sight of his own flesh and blood's happiness, his eyes turning gentler he got down on his knees, one arm draping over the wooden hedge of the crib with his chin resting on top of his forearm, the other arm slipping inside the crib and lazily reaching out to stroke at his daughter's face with his index finger.

Her skin was warm like his, but had that same dark tan shade of her mother's.

She reminded him of her so much. So so much.

His mind flooded instantly with memories of _her_ and he could feel his heart tighten, held in a vice grip by loss and being squeezed hard, painfully so, if his infant was old enough to notice and wasn't currently distracted by the mobile she'd probably notice his expression turning somber. Yet his finger kept gently stroking her chubby cheek, and the pain seemed to lessen somewhat. It was at least bearable now.

Zuko slowly stood up, leaving his baby girl to her own devices whilst he got back to work, walking over to the stack of boxes he'd put in the corner of the bedroom moments prior and begun the job of decorating it properly. He'd painted the modest size room two days prior to this, part of him had wanted to get someone with some talent to do it, make it look professional and cozy, but another part of him felt like this was his job, not some random stranger he hired. That's what dads always did in TV and movies anyways. His brain told him that the room should probably be a faint pink since he had a daughter and logic told him that was more proper, but his gut assured him that a soft sky blue was the better choice due to her heritage. And that he did, sprinkling a mixture of fishes and clouds over the calming blue tone he'd chosen, he saw fit to paint a red dragon flying in the sky among the clouds as well, so his own people's culture was represented. Balance is important. Zuko wasn't the most artistic person in the world but he was convinced he'd done a good enough job. It did look a bit trippy, fishes flying up in the clouds and a red dragon wandering about.

While busy assembling the parts of a bedside table he could place the baby monitor on top of he paid close attention to the sounds his little girl made. She kept giggling, making funny sounds in an infant's gibberish language, but before long she seemed to grow bored with the toy hanging above her crib. A yawn came out, followed by less and less enthusiastic noises. More yawns. And before long, silence. Zuko stepped off from his sitting position on the floor piecing together the different parts of the table, to go check on her and make sure she hadn't rolled over onto her tummy to sleep. He caught her with her belly-up, face turned slightly to the left and snoring silently with her little mouth agape. He had to resist the urge to stroke her cheek some more or even give her a kiss on the forehead for fear of waking her up, he knew how unbearably hard it was to put a child back to slumber after they'd been awoken, not to mention the trouble a sleepy baby tended to be, so he went back to his construction instead.

Twenty minutes had passed and he was seemingly finished with the table now, he was visibly irritated by the fact that he had about three extra screws left. With a grumble he checked the instructions, more carefully this time, and stared at the pages for minutes on end. Growling irritably he scrunched up the folded paper up into a ball and threw it at the bin, going back to his table to disassemble it and going through the motions of rebuilding it all over again, not wanting to take a risk of building something faulty that could one day potentially harm his child.

It was monotonous to take everything apart and then methodically put it back together, his mind wandering to memories he'd long buried in his subconscious.

"You will not marry some lowlife penniless whore. End of discussion." His father's voice was powerful, it commanded an air of automatic respect and elicited in most people an unwavering need to follow his orders. The elder sat behind a large desk stacked with papers aplenty, and although he was initially staring daggers at his disappointment of a son he had quickly moved on to his duties and was already writing something down, not expecting a rebuttal or worse, a defying gesture to come, especially not from his craven offspring.

Zuko's hands were tightened into fists so hard he'd have drawn blood from his palms if he had long nails, still what he had dug into his flesh painfully, yet not as painfully as hearing what he'd just called the mother of his unborn child. His mouth was closed but his jaw was tense with absolute anger, teeth gritting so hard that he'd undoubtedly shatter them if he didn't speak soon.

"Don't call her that."

Ozai shrugged in his dark black suit, not bothering to look up at his son, his one and only son, the man didn't even have the decency to stop writing down whatever the hell he was writing in the first place. "Whatever you wish to call this downtrodden lover of yours, then." The sound of his pen eloquently gliding across a sheet of paper was the only sound echoing around the room, "It doesn't change the fact that she's lowborn trash, destitute in both wealth and personality."

"You don't even know her. You don't know the first thing about her." Zuko barked back at his father, he couldn't remember the last time he'd taken this tone with him.

"Do I need to?" he said with a raise of his eyebrow, his eyes never left the paper however, not even when he was done with the current sheet and reached out to grab another to continue on, "You have a perfectly good betrothal arranged with one of my business partners to his beautiful daughter. It's more than you deserve, honestly," his eyes raised up to meet his son's for the first time in a while, sharp gold versus sharp gold. "Much more than what you deserve."

Zuko ignored the barb that was flung at him, he was well aware that he wasn't his father's favorite, parents weren't supposed to have favorites, but he'd long since accepted being the black sheep.

"I don't love Mai. It wouldn't be right to put her through this…"

Ozai rolled his eyes and went back to more pressing issues, signing contracts.

"Love," he older man scoffed, "As if you and your sister were produced out of love to begin with… If you're adamant about this whore of yours then keep her around as a mistress if you wish. You get to have a woman far beyond what you should as a wife, and your peasant gets to be your personal slut. You both win. Now leave, I have a lot of work to d-"

"Fuck you!" Zuko roared and took a step forward, his nostrils flaring and his eyes narrowed to his own father, his posture was tense and by the way his fists were clenched he looked ready to throw a punch, he stared down at Ozai with rage. The patriarch of the family however was little impressed, he slowly looked up at his child as he stood in the middle of his office room, he smirked maliciously at Zuko.

"Care to say that again?" he taunted, he had never put his hands on his son but once, and that one time had left scars on the boy that would last him a lifetime. An awful, gruesome burn across one side of the insolent brat's face. It was nothing short of a miracle that he managed to attract the attention of some woman, even if Ozai was adamant that this little slut was just looking to take a ride due to his wealth, seeing the pregnancy as a opportunity to be rich for the rest of her miserable little life.

Zuko was fuming, his chest heaved and he looked about ready to act on his father's provocations with a hard fist across his smug face. But the sound of a pair of rushing footsteps dashing away outside of the office brought the young man back from his kin-slaying fantasy.

Shit, he forgot he'd told her to stay outside.

The boy quickly took off out of the room in hot pursuit of her, leaving behind the beating his father was sorely in need of for another time, meanwhile Ozai just glowered at the open door. One excuse, that's all he needed. His bloody son needed only give him one instance of self-defense and he could be rid of this disappointment once and for all. It was fine, he had a spare, a worthy spare that could inherit the business and not tarnish the family legacy. The cold-blooded hot-tempered mogul went back to his stacks of paper, brooding.

It was dusk by the time Zuko was done fixing up the bedroom, having spent the better part of the afternoon building up his daughter's dwelling. Tables, racks for her toys, closet for clothes, changing station, the sort, he'd done it all. No sooner had he finished up doing all that and begun to swipe the sweat from his forehead did he hear the wails coming to life from the crib, he looked over his shoulder at her and nodded, seemingly getting an idea for what she was complaining about and agreeing wholeheartedly with her.

"Yeah… let's go get some food."

Zuko sat on the living room couch, his feet up on the coffee table in front of him and his knees propped up in front of him with his daughter leaning her back on his thighs, he held a bowl of food for the girl and was honestly making a fool of himself trying to feed her. Train noises, the sound of planes flying, pleas begging her to have just a taste, but it seemed like she was having none of it, apparently changing her mind about having some food after all.

"Come on, it's good." He argued with his 8th month old as if that would change anything, at best she would laugh at the exasperated look he gave her.

"I'm serious, this isn't half bad." He kept on, putting the spoon into the slightly sweetened applesauce and taking out a spoonful, he took it to his lips and only intended to pretend to slip part of its contents into his mouth to convince her it was surely edible, but accidentally got a taste of it. Huh, he was actually right, it was pretty tasty, actually. He ate that spoon and took another dip into it, the little girl's big blues stared up at him, all sense of amusement at his failed attempts gone now and she showed a curious look.

As he was about to take just one more little bite he saw the face she was pulling, how her mouth sat agape a bit and her eyes followed the motion of his spoon. He moved the silver utensil to the left, her head turned to follow, he moved it to the right and she'd repeat the motion. Zuko slowly moved it up towards his mouth and saw how her face turned sour, her eyes watery and she looked just about ready to cry.

"Sorry, sorry!" he said quickly and brought the cutlery up to her mouth, in an instant she forgot all about how she wanted to cry and took in her meal eagerly, content with herself.

The TV buzzed in the now dark living room, whatever late night program that was on was being ignored by Zuko as he snored on the couch, lying on his back across the light beige sofa, one arm wrapped protectively around his girl as she laid atop of him on her back, playing around with his fingers, finding enjoyment out of how much bigger they were than hers, not to mention heavy and surprisingly tough when compared to her soft digits. Her entertainment soon wasn't enough to keep her attention, not even putting his finger in her mouth seemed to make it any more of a novelty and soon enough she'd lost interest.

Zuko was awakened after a short nap by a pair of tiny hands that were mushing up his face, groping, pulling, and pinching every bit of it like he was play dough. Feeling the baby weight on his chest he instantly knew who it happened to be and sat up slowly, his arms wrapped around her securely so she wouldn't fall off as he got up, he rubbed some of the sleep from his eyes with one hand and then looked down at the bundle of joy in his arm and found her to be quite drained as well, flashing him a face that told him to put her to bed. He was happy to comply.

A few minutes of rocking her in his arms and she was already practically snoozing as he carefully lowered her body onto her crib. He held around her for a little bit, in not much rush to leave the sleeping beauty he kept peering down at his child, flesh and blood, his priority in this world, the person he loved most, and the one who would always remind him of her mother. Gently he stroked at her stomach in gentle circles to help lull her into a sleep.

Suddenly a blaring ringtone came from his jeans' pocket and hurriedly retrieved his hand from the infant, reaching into his pocket and making his way out of the room. He knew to fear the sight of a baby who'd been woken up and was all fussy, and he didn't care to relive it tonight. Rushing into his own bedroom, just across the hall from his daughter's, he quickly closed the door behind him and finally checked who it is that's calling him at a time like this, it's got to already be past midnight. A scowl spread over him.

Azula.

The sudden noise of a rude ringtone was indeed enough to begin to stir the young child from her sleep but she didn't think much of it because her father's touch still lingered on her tummy, she could feel the warmth that'd emanated from his fingertips as he caressed her. Slowly though, that heat began to wear off, thanks to the girl's naturally elevated temperature she took an extra few minutes longer to notice it, but once she did the absence of her protector was horrifying. Where was daddy? Why isn't he around keeping her safe like always? Why was it suddenly becoming so cold in the room? She missed dad. She wanted him with her again and to keep her safe, and keep her nice and warm, nice and warm and safe. Her eyes never even opened and tears already came from them, a wail came out, first testing to see if he was indeed in the room with her and she hadn't noticed or if he was really gone. A moment passed and she got no attention, another wail came from her mouth, this time louder, then without waiting another and another and another. Louder and louder.

"Tell her I'm sorry but the answer's still 'no'…" Zuko told Azula with a sigh following suit, his hand running down his face in annoyance.

"Suit yourself Zuzu, if you'd rather live the life of a beggar that's your prerogative." He could practically hear her shrugging just by the tone she used, "I still don't understand why you won't swallow your pride and do as father said; Mai still cares a lot about you and is willing to go through with the union if you are, and father might still forgive you... _Might_."

"You know why." Zuko spat, "There's no way that bastard would let me keep her; he'd want to put her up for adoption. Or worse." He shuddered the thought but that only lighted the fire inside him to protect his little girl even more, especially from his father. No, he wasn't a father. Fathers don't want to get rid of their granddaughters because they came to this world through a woman they didn't approve of. Iroh had been more of a father to him and even Azula than this asshole. He'd been 10 times the father and even more so supportive than Ozai.

For a moment only silence came from the other end of the line, he could hear Azula's breathing so he knew she was still there. In that silence he first heard a small cry from a baby come from the bedroom across the hall. He was about to end the call abruptly to go see to his child when he heard his younger sister begin a reply, her voice for once in her life sounded more concerned and understanding than her usual mocking tone. "… Zuko…"

"I have to go," he told her and ended it, dashing out of his room to check what was wrong.

She was full-on bawling now, her face red with fear and the comfy mattress underneath her damp with her tears. Where was he? Did he really vanish? Leave her forever? Why wasn't he there like always? It felt like she'd been crying for hours already despite only a few seconds passing since she'd even woken up.

"Bad dream?" he asked coming suddenly up to the crib, her head turning to look at him, he had come for her and was looking down with a concerned expression, his hand was already reaching down to stroke at her head, his thumb on her forehead stroking it gingerly while the rest of his fingers dug into her short chocolate brown hair to massage her scalp. The relief of seeing him back washed over her, but unfortunately the only way she could express such relief was by wailing some more. Zuko took pity on the poor girl and reached down with his other arm, picking her up carefully, tucking the back of her head on the nook of his arm and holding her tightly to his chest, he rocked her a bit and shushed her gently over and over to see if she'd calm down, she clung to him with her little hands and wouldn't let go.

"Wanna go sleep with dad?" he asked her, of course not expecting an answer, but her crying did seem to lighten-up a bit, even though it was still present through sniffling.

Sunlight was coming in through the window. A few little dust specks floated in the air as the bright sunlight invaded Zuko's bedroom, in the distance a dog could be heard barking and lawn sprinklers were busily spraying the grass in the neighborhood with a fresh layer of water. The disowned young father slept on his side in his bed, facing away from the window, shielding the little girl lying next to him from the bright light, her stomach was facing the ceiling and Zuko's hand was atop the little girl's tummy, unconsciously stroking circles with his fingers. Both father and daughter were snoring peacefully.

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**AN: Hey all! Here's some single father Zuko for your soul. For whatever reason I thought he'd be real cute as a daddy, I think it turned out well, I hope I wasn't the only one to think so, but if you have any criticisms I'd love to hear them! Be as brutal as you'd like so long as you explain what I did wrong and hopefully provide tips to improve! Take this one-shot as a prelude for a future ATLA fic I'll be working on that'll be more of a series and will expand upon the themes introduced here. I apologize for those more serious bits between Zuzu, Azula, and their father as this was initially just a short full of cute interactions between daughter and father but I figured people would think that was too boring, so I added a little bit of tension and exposition. See you all real soon!**

_rebornrose_


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